


On reproaches, paws and odd caresses

by letitmclennon



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Fluff, John vs Martha, M/M, Martha is a bad girl, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 10:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13006263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letitmclennon/pseuds/letitmclennon
Summary: Do you know St. John's wood in London?It's where I live. I moved there recently. A couple of weeks ago, in fact.It's a nice place, you know? There’s a spacious, quiet house with a nice garden, where you can lie down to sunbathe and laze peacefully.Obviously, I don’t live here alone. No, there’s also someone else.





	On reproaches, paws and odd caresses

Do you know St. John's wood in London?

It's where I live. I moved there recently. A couple of weeks ago, in fact.

It's a nice place, you know? There’s a spacious, quiet house with a nice garden, where you can lie down to sunbathe and laze peacefully.

Obviously, I don’t live here alone. No, there’s also someone else.

It’s a man. He’s not bad at all. He’s sweet and fond of me, he’s always so caring: he buys me many presents and takes me to beautiful tours in the countryside. We have a lot of fun together.

I really didn’t think one could be so comfortable with a man. At first, I was wary of him, but he knew how to conquer me day after day with his simplicity and his love.

He’s the perfect man.

Well…

I mean… of course he isn’t perfect, not at all. After all, he has his faults too. If he gets angry, he gets _really_ angry. He also knows how to be very spiteful, if he wants to, and raises his voice. A little moody, I have to say.

And he’s not the only one.

When the other man comes to see him, it's worse. If they start arguing, it's the end. I've never seen anything like that. Together they can get along very well, but also very bad.

Today, for example, it’s one of those bad times. I was walking quietly through the corridors of the house, when suddenly I heard some excited voices coming from the bedroom. I ran to see what was happening and I found myself in front of those two who were fighting furiously.

The bed was unmade and there were so many things on the floor, things they call _clothes_. From what I understand, they have the same function as my fur: they are used to feel less cold. But they occasionally remove them and remain naked.

And now I'm here barking to try to make them stop fighting, because in my opinion, they’re raising their voice a little too much and I don’t like them that way. This way they bring out the worst side from each other.

I don’t understand what they're saying right now. In fact, if I have to be honest, I never understand them. I understand only the master when he tells me how beautiful and soft and sweet I am.

However, I don’t really like the way they’re fighting now. They almost frighten me. Their angry voices are horrible, so much I involuntarily start to growl slightly.

 

Even their gestures don’t predict anything good. They seem to hold back from doing something else, pouring out their anger with their paws, with their bodies.

Almost as to confirm my hypothesis, my master’s friend screams something and then puts his long thin paws on his chest to push him. The master falls onto the bed, with a totally disoriented expression on his face. As if he didn’t see it coming.

I can’t stand it. I can’t really stand it. Nobody can hurt my master. Always so kind and so good to me. That’s it.

_Woof!_

With a jump I reach the other man: he’s so much taller than me, I’m still tiny, but I concentrate all my strength to jump and bite his hand, then return to the ground and continue to bark.

The man throws a scream of pain, almost a howl, while the master hurries to get up from the bed. Now he will tell me that I have been good and will thank me. I wag impatiently my tail, waiting for my reward, a caress of the master maybe, but when I notice his expression totally bewildered and worried, I begin to think that maybe I shouldn’t have bitten his friend’s hand.

No caress, master?

No, definitely not.

He approaches me and simply scolds me.

_Not right, Martha, bad, bad girl, you mustn’t bite John._

He has the finger of his hand up and points it sternly against me. I lower my ears and I feel sorry, while he tries to reassure me, saying that they weren’t doing anything wrong and that... _John?_

Yes. _John_ would never hurt him.

If he says so, I should trust him, but I just wanted to protect him.

So, I sit on the ground and watch him go back to John, who has sat on the bed. He takes John’s paw and examines it carefully.

Oh please, he must be kidding! With my little teeth I can’t have hurt him so much.

Then the master disappears into the bathroom and I’m left alone with John, who looks at me without any expression on his face. And I look at him in return. I know he never hurts my master, but never say never, right?

John, perhaps, read my thoughts. Perhaps these humans have powers to understand our behavior, because in the end, he does a strange thing. He smiles slightly.

I had never seen him smile at me. Even if I don’t understand why he’s smiling, I have to admit it's a beautiful smile. Very sweet. As much as my master’s. And maybe he’s right. Maybe John would never hurt him and with this smile he's just trying to calm me down.

My master returns with a box in his hand. He makes sure that John’s sitting well on the bed and then does something I don’t understand: he sits on his lap, spreads his legs to be straddling John, who makes a sound like a laugh after the master has whispered something in his ear. Then he takes John’s wounded paw and begins to place on it something white and soft with extreme consideration.

While he does that, John doesn’t take his eyes off him, not even for a single moment. He looks at him with endless tenderness as if the past screams have never happened, as if... yes, as if he really could never hurt him.

Now I'm sure too. And quietly I curl up on the floor, watching the master wrap John’s paw and then place on it something that humans call _kiss_. I prefer licking, though. They are much more fun and loving. These humans don’t know what they’re missing.

But evidently the master, Paul is his name, didn’t I say that? he prefers kisses. He kisses John's paw gently and then climbs along the entire leg, laying many little kisses on his way up to the shoulder, where he moves on his chest to go up, finally, on his neck, while John wraps his legs around his chest.

Paul kisses him on the nose and John reciprocates, holding him to himself. I get up on my paws when Paul pushes him backwards and they both end up lying on the bed.

Theirs are strange cuddles. They touch each other everywhere, in all possible ways and they always wail. I don’t know whether to worry, but maybe they're not hurting themselves, because sometimes they laugh.

So, I decide to leave, leaving them caught up from each other and I go out of the room, bored. Maybe my ball is in the other room. It’ll certainly be funnier than this show.

Who understands these humans?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again. This is a little story I wrote in 2014. It was inspired by the fact of Martha biting John while he was fighting with Paul. She was a cute little girl. :3  
> The pov is Martha's, of course. It was weird trying to think as a dog. Lol.   
> Thanks to my dear betareader [sherlocked221](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocked221/pseuds/sherlocked221).  
> Hope you like it!


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